


And Just Forget The World

by Lilsciencequeen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, F/M, Gen, I'm Sorry, Past Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3063299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 2 AU where Simmons is caught and tortured in Hydra. This is the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_I'm miles from where you are_

Fitz. That was her first thought every morning and her last thought every night. Fitz. Leopold Fitz. Her best friend. All she wanted was to see him. To be with him. She couldn't remember when she last she him.

"He doesn't love you," that voice in the back of her head said. Taunting her. Teasing her. As usual. It kept her up every night.

Since she had been a prisoner here at Hydra, she lost all sense of time. She sighed. She had gave up hope of a rescue. Fitz probably was looking for her.

"If he still loves you. Which he doesn't." That voice. Again.

But now there were voices outside her cell door. A female voice. One she recognize. She could not remember her name. But she knew that she worked for Whitehall. And if she worked for him...

_I lay down on the cold ground_

One minute she's standing up, backed up into the corner of the room, muttering under her breath. The next, she's lying on the cold ground of her room, screaming. There's footsteps beside her,someone crouching down. She's preparing for whatever comes next. What ever hell that is.

"Jemma," the voice whispers in her ear. A familiar voice. One that comforted her. "It's me. Trip."

She stopped screaming and sat up look at him. "Are you saving me?"

He nodded. "Fitz never gave up. Looking for you. Coulson would let him come. But I promised I'd..." he trailed off, seeing her face. It was pure fear. She started beating heavy, and tried, to no avail, to sink back further into the room.

"Just sedate her," the female voice said. It was some what pleasant, if inpatient.

The last thing she remembers before sleep claims her is Trip lifting her. She was going home. To Fitz. Her Fitz.

_I, I pray that something picks me up_

She woke up to someone stroking her cheek. They were rubbing circles with their thumb. He was rubbing circles with his thumb.

Her eyes were heavy when she opened them. 

"Jems?" The voice asked. She didn't move. He didn't move. All she wanted to do was to throw her arms around him. To be close to him.

She was home, as long as he was here.

But she was petrified.  

_and sets me down in your warm arms_


	2. All That I'm Living For

_I believe that dreams are sacred._

"Jemma?" Fitz asked but she couldn't hear him. She was frozen in fear for there was a shadow standing in the doorway. A silhouette standing in the doorway. One that she knew far too well. One that she hated. He stepped in.

Whitehall.

Daniel Whitehall.

And in his hand he held a knife, a crimson liquid running down it caressing its edges, pooling into the floor. Blood.

She tried to crawl back further on the bed, to hide and never be seen again.

"Jems?" Fitz asked again, this time his face was laced with concern. "Is someone there?" 

How could he not see that man? The man who had spent the last who knows how many months torturing her.

_Take my darkest fears and play them_

He stepped closer and all Jemma could do was stare at the door, watching him edge closer to her, menace dancing in his eyes. 

He lifted the knife and by now he was beside the bed, Jemma staring directly at him. Fitz's eyes flicked between her and the Hydra leader, which he couldn't see.

"Jemma?"

"No. No. No. No. No. No." was all she muttered, again and again and again.

Daniel Whitehall brought the knife up to her face, rubbing the cold blade against her cheek, the ice like metal biting her flesh. 

And she screamed.

As this is what he did.

Took your darkest fears. 

Your nightmares and horrors of your past.

And made you relive them over.

And over.

And over.

Because this was how he got joy. 

By torturing people.

  
_Like a lullaby,_

"Jemma!" A voice called. "Jemma, wake up you're ok, you're safe."

But this only made her curl up into a ball, retreating further into her self.

"You're safe Jemma, you'll be able to see Fitz in about an hour and a half."

This is what made her open her eyes. The voice was familiar. Safe. Comforting.

It wasn't Fitz but it was someone else she cared deeply for.

"Trip?"

He gave a sigh of relief.

"Is he Ok?"

Trip nodded. "Jemma, there's someone you need to meet."

  
_Like a reason why,_

It was her. That woman who worked for Whitehall. Hydra's head of security or whatever.

She knelt down in front of Jemma. What was she doing on the plane. "Barbara Morse. But just call me Bobbi." She extended her hand and Jemma just looked down at it.

"You're Hydra."

Bobbi shook her head. "No, I was undercover. It took me weeks to find you. I was only there for that last week but I couldn't get you out. I'm sorry. We're sorry it took so long. Whitehall kept moving you and we had no idea where you were."

"What did he do to me?" was all Jemma could whisper after taking Bobbi's hand.

"We have the file but haven't yet had the chance to read it." 

  
_Like a play of my obsessions,_

They spent the last 45 minutes of the journey in silence. All she could think of was Fitz. Getting back to him. Talking to him. Being with him.

She shouldn't have taken this undercover mission. He said that she should go. Take a month out and get inside information that they couldn't get from Ward.

That's how long this mission was suppose to take. 

A month.

She laughed, causing Bobbi and Trip to turn around and look at her from the front of the QuinJet. But whether the Biochemist saw them or just didn't acknowledge them, she didn't know. 

  
_Make me understand the lesson,_

"Strap in!" Bobbi called from the front of the plane but Jemma didn't. Instead she walked up to the cockpit and stared down at Trip. And that's when he noticed just how bad she was.

Her hair, no longer that chestnut brown, so full of life but no limp and all the colour faded.

Her eyes were no longer full of curiosity that he loved.

He stood up and let her have the seat, going to sit in the back himself.

  
_So I'll find myself,_

They landed 10 minutes later and all Jemma wanted to do was to get off this plane and back to her bunk.

To get back to some sense of normality.

But that wouldn't be happing any time soon.

She was broken.

She had just spent the last couple months at Hydra being tortured.

But she could try.

***

Fitz was there for her as soon as she got off the plane and she ran to him, collapsing in his arms. Sobbing.

He stroked her hair, calming her.

He had no idea what she had been through. 

He couldn't even begin to imagine what hell she'd had to endure.

But he was there for her now.

And he would never let anything happen to her again.

What ever came next, they would face it like they face everything.

Together.

  
_So I won't be lost again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> The title and lyrics are from All That I'm Living For by Evanescence.   
> I'll probably update this one on a Friday/Saturdayish


	3. Bleeding Out

_When the hour is nigh_

The next few weeks, well they were hell. She had violent mood swings. One minute she was happy, almost back to normal. Talking with Skye in the lounge or with Fitz in the lab. She was't helping by doing anything. She just like his company. Because she had been without him for so long. Six months is what Coulson had said. Six months. Half a year. She had missed his birthday. She had missed her birthday. 

***

On cold, bleak Monday, she was sitting in the lab, waiting on Fitz getting back, a mug of team going cold in her hands. The lab door opened and that guy walked in. The new one who had helped Fitz search for her. Mack? Was that his name? She didn't really know his name. 

And that's why she heard it. The sound of a door slamming shut. 

And she fled.

_And hopelessness is sinking in_

She hated being like this, she though as she lay on the sofa, on head on his lap. She hated this feeling. This feeling of hopelessness, the feeling that you're worthless.

"You're not, Jems," he said gently. She was talking out loud. Again. She didn't know why she did it. Or when she was doing it. She just hated that feeling. The feeling that everyone was treating her differently. As if were a time bomb that could go off at any moment. And that feeling was horrible. The feeling that she was not a person, but something fragile that if you handled with too much force, that it would shatter right of front of them.

  
_And the wolves all cry_

__To fill the night with hollering_ _

No one at the Playground got much sleep anymore. She screamed and kicked and cried. Begging for the pain to stop. And Fitz was always the first one there, pulling her into a hug, comforting her, simply being there for her, and making sure that she knew that it was Ok and no one was going to hurt her. And he stayed there until the next morning.

  
  
_When your eyes are red_  
_And emptiness is all you know_  
_With the darkness fed_  
_I will be your scarecrow_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.  
> Title and lyrics from Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons  
> 


	4. Fix You

_Tears stream down your face_

 

When Ward left Bakshi with the team, Bobbi finally understood the file. Her and Coulson read through the file on Jemma countless times but yet they were still unable to figure out what had happened to her. The file just had test results.

"Did not respond to this."

"Responded to this with..." And a list of side effects.

It made Bobbi sick. How someone could hurt her like that. Why someone would do that.

 

Why Fitz found out, against all orders he told her, tears starting to make their way down both their faces.

"I'm so sorry Jems," he said, pulling her into a hug and she, burying her face in his chest.

 

  
_When you lose something you cannot replace_   


 

They had taken her blood. And lots of it. When S.H.I.E.L.D. fell they took the helmet. The Chitauri helmet. 

"They're gonna weaponise the virus," she said. She was curled up in a blanket in the large armchair, a mug of steaming tea in her hand. Her head was resting on Fitz's shoulder. "And they're gonna use my..." she stammered.

"But we can stop them," Skye said from the sofa on the other side of the window. "Jems, it'll be fine."

Fitz looked at her. She was so pale. She had been ever since she got back almost two and a half months ago. But she had been temperamental those weeks but the team finally learnt what triggered those attacks. Loud noises, sudden movement. Anything sharp. Of course, there were still a few incidents but she was learning to control it.

  
_Tears stream down your face_   
_And I..._   


 

She woke up in a cold sweat. Those recurring dreams. The dreams she never told Fitz. She knew that she should. And that night when he came running in, she did.

And what she did, it scared him.

She told him of the blade that glinted with blood that Whitehall used on her. Scaring her. Causing her pain. To get secrets and intel, which she never gave up. The room where she had to listen to her own tortured screams on loop. And that's when he promised her that he would never let anyone hurt her ever again.

  
_And I will try to fix you_   


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had to use coldplay.   
> Marvel owns all  
> This will be the last chapter as I am really unhappy at how this turned out but thanks for the support

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Snow Patrol, Chasing Cars.  
> The lyrics in italics are from Snow Patrol's Set the Fire to the Third Bar.  
> I own nothing


End file.
